


Elbow Grease

by autoraboricua



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [4]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Firefighter!Korra, Fluff, Korra is over it, mechanic!Asami, workplace sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autoraboricua/pseuds/autoraboricua
Summary: Being the youngest female firefighter on the crew is tough work for Korra, but at least she has something (or rather someone) nice to come home to.





	Elbow Grease

Korra shuts the front door behind her and immediately thunks her head backwards against the wood. She groans, half at the flare of pain in her skull and half at the absolute monstrosity of a day she has just had. Two kitchen fires in one shift, plus a multi-car pile up right as she’d been about to clock out. AND some dickhead recruit two years younger than her had tried to give her advice about how to put on her fire suit. Just remembering it is enough to stoke the dim fire of anger that always seems to dwell in Korra’s belly.

 

Breathe deep, she tells herself. In and out. Relax the tension. Release the muscles. Or, wait, isn’t it the other way around? She’s always had a hard time staying awake during Uncle Tenzin’s meditation classes.

 

The townhouse is devoid of sounds, even though it’s well past 7:00, which means Asami is probably in the garage again with that beat up old bike. Stupid thing is never going to run right, not that Korra will ever say so to her girlfriend’s face.

 

“Babe?” Korra calls out, snagging an apple from a basket on the counter as she makes her way downstairs to the garage.

 

Some 90’s grunge metal song is blaring through the ancient tinny radio Asami refuses to replace. Korra rounds the corner and pokes her head through the doorway. Sure enough, the antique (which Korra suspects is just a polite way of saying broken) motorcycle is standing on a raised bench in the middle of the room. Asami seems to be fiddling with the engine. That’s about all Korra’s severely limited mechanical knowledge can deduce.

 

“Can’t you work on that at the shop?” Korra asks.

 

Asami, to her credit, doesn’t even flinch at Korra’s sudden appearance.

 

“What?” she asks, “And let one of those grease monkeys I work with mess her up? No way.”

 

Pleased with whatever adjustment she’s been making, Asami lays down her wrench and turns to shoot Korra a wry smile. Korra takes a long moment to appreciate the low rise of Asami’s tank top and the sheen of oil and sweat on her shoulders.

 

“May I remind you,” she says, sidling closer to Asami with measured steps, “that you are also one of those grease monkeys?”

 

Korra’s palms connect with Asami’s hips and settle in. It feels good just to touch her, comforting in all the best ways. Asami ignores the little jab. Her eyes scan Korra’s face. There must be some lingering frustration there, because Asami’s eyebrows press together in concern.

 

“Rough day?” she asks, brushing back a stray lock of Korra’s hair and pressing the briefest of kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Nobody-”

 

Her voice tapers off. There are bad days sometimes. Days when Korra comes home wrecked, because she can’t save everyone, but she wants to so badly. This is not one of those days.

 

“Nah,” Korra says with an easy smile, “A sprained wrist was the worst of it. That and Jin being an ass as usual. I swear the guy thinks he’s my boss already. Sometimes I about quitting just to spite them all.”

 

Asami scoots closer, wrapping a grease-spotted arm around Korra’s waist.

 

“But you won’t,” she says. It’s not a question. It’s an assurance, quiet and steady.

 

“I won’t,” Korra nods.

 

They stand like that for awhile, wrapped together in the harsh fluorescent light of the garage. Korra breathes deep. She breathes in the scent of oil and dust and Asami’s shampoo. She breathes out the tension and the work and the frustration. In and out. In and out. This is by far her favorite kind of meditation.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually really enjoyed this simple little AU. I kind of want to revisit it later, if anyone would be interested in that. Maybe a series of vignettes?
> 
> Crossposted to my tumblr: https://daily-drabs.tumblr.com


End file.
